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Dennis blamed Trinity. After all, she was the one who dragged him along to dyke night at Rita's (he still didn't understand why they had a specific dyke night, it was a lesbian bar, every night was a dyke night), she was the one who kept buying round after round, and she was the one he had to drag home at two in the morning, drunk out of her mind. He took great joy in her hangover as she stood across from him, either side of a patient's bed during rounds. Or he would, if he weren't cursing having ever met her.
Their morning had started simple enough. After dragging themselves to work on too little sleep and getting razzed by their colleagues for how obviously hungover they were, Robby had called them all to their rounds. Tiredness dragged Dennis down to the point of completely zoning out, which meant he completely missed Robby's patient summary and follow up question.
"Whitaker!" Robby barked, snapping Dennis to attention.
"Yes, dad?" he answered on autopilot.
It took a few seconds for the horror to sink in. Trinity snorted, her face scrunched up as she struggled to hold in her cackles. Beside him, Victoria giggled. Even Robby was struggling, lips pressed tightly together to reign in his grin. Dennis turned bright red.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry Robby—I mean Doctor Robby—Robinavitch—I'm sorry, oh God..." Dennis trailed off, staring at the floor. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, and as the moment stretched on Dennis prayed for the earth to crack open and swallow him whole.
Mortifyingly, it was the patient that spoke. "I think you broke him."
Robby clapped his hands together, snapping them all out of the moment, still barely concealing his amusement. "As I was saying," he said, and thankfully everyone moved on with him. "Who can give me a differential diagnosis for upper abdominal pain?"
Trinity cleared her throat, taking the spotlight off Dennis, but grinning at him in a way that confirmed he would never be living this down. She rattled off, "Pancreatitis, gallstones, liver disease."
"Very good, Doctor Santos, and how would we diagnose or rule out pancreatitis?"
"Test the blood for elevated amylase."
"Excellent!" Robby nodded towards the patient. "Thankfully, a rather quick test, which means fast treatment for our friend here. Javadi, what follow up actions should we take now that treatment has begun?"
"An ultrasound to check for gallstones?" she quickly replied.
"Right again!" He led them out of the room, thanking the patient who waved them off.
The remainder of their rounds passed quickly and easily, with Dennis trying to fade into the background the whole time. When the group finally broke up, he tried to slink away so he could freak out in private.
"Whitaker, with me," Robby said, his hand falling heavily onto Dennis' shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Dennis swallowed down his protests and let himself be dragged off to Robby's seldom-used office. Robby closed the door firmly behind them and Dennis wiped his clammy hands on his trousers.
The windowless office was pokey at best, a complete dump at worst. Despite all medical records being stored on the computers these days, every spare surface of the tiny office was covered in loose papers, old medical journals, and random files. Robby hefted two stacks onto the already cluttered desk to free up a pair of chairs. He sat in one and gestured to the other, waiting for Dennis to sit. He did so awkwardly, fidgeting, and Robby leaned towards him, arms resting on his thighs with his hands clasped, just watching him for a moment.
"Am I in trouble or something?" Dennis finally burst out, the tension that stretched between them snapping like a rubber band. Robby just laughed, embarrassing him further.
"No, you're not in trouble. If anything, I'm flattered." He shot Dennis a sly grin. "Do you see me as a father figure?"
"Oh, God," Dennis moaned, burying his face in his hands while Robby chuckled.
"How are you finding it so far?" he asked, smoothly changing the subject.
"Today? Not great," Dennis said, a small bloom of Something swelling in his chest when he made Robby laugh again, on purpose for a change. "In general? I'm really enjoying it, it feels like I'm actually making a difference. Does that sound dumb?"
"It doesn't sound dumb." Robby shifted closer, resting a warm hand on his knee. "You are making a difference, you should be proud of yourself."
This time when Dennis flushed it was out of bashful gratitude. He tried to brush it off modestly but he couldn't help his self-satisfied smile. "I don't know if I'd go that far."
"I think you should." Robby paused, waiting until Dennis met his eyes. "And until you are, I'll do it for you."
"You'll..?" Dennis knew he was fishing, but he couldn't help himself. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing, what he was feeling. He never expected to get such high praise from someone so experienced, so knowledgeable.
"I'm proud of you, Dennis."
His heart stopped, skipped a beat. Something his father had never said to him, now being offered up on a silver platter. Dennis ducked his head, ears hot.
"Thank you," he mumbled.
They were both quiet for a few moments. Robby shuffled forward slightly, perched on the edge of his seat, but Dennis' gaze was laser focused on his huge hand as it slowly edged off his knee, up to his thigh.
"How about we get a drink after work. My treat." Robby squeezed his leg, just ever so slightly.
"I—I—" Dennis had no clue what was happening. Things like this didn't happen to him, hell it was a fluke he'd even managed to lose his virginity in college. It was overwhelming, having Robby's laser focus completely directed at him. That Something churned in his gut and seared the feeling of Robby's hand on his leg permanently into the skin of his thigh like a brand, even when he drew back.
"Hey, no pressure—" Robby said as he pulled away, giving him a clear out.
"No, I—I want to!" Dennis interrupted, the Something taking control of his mouth to seize the opportunity for him.
"You sure?" Robby's hand hovered over his leg and he looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as if he could see the warring sides inside him.
Still, Dennis nodded. He told himself that he could always bail later if he changed his mind. The Something inside him hummed contentedly.
"Great!" Robby said, and when he patted Dennis' leg he was sure it was creeping further up his thigh, but as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Robby turned to the disaster that was the desk and shooed him out. "Go on, back to work."
Dennis scurried off, firmly ignoring the drop of slick between his legs caused by the familiarly authoritative way he'd been dismissed. He ducked into the men's room and hid inside a stall to awkwardly wipe away any evidence of arousal, then splashed his face with cold water, trying to cool his flaming cheeks. He could barely believe that had even happened, and he certainly didn't have time to think it through. What he needed to do was go back to work. Try and forget the whole thing. Deal with Robby asking him out later.
Wait a minute.
Had Robby asked him out on a date?!
Surely not. Robby was his boss, and he was just a med student! That'd be all kinds of messed up. Dennis swallowed, staring at his reflection. His cheeks were bright pink and he recognized the wild look in his eyes. Trinity always told him he needed to get laid when she saw it, and she was usually right, though that typically meant he skipped the night out and spent some quality time with his favorite vibrator.
A nurse entered the bathroom, bringing the sounds of the ER with him and pulling Dennis back to reality. He had no time to dwell, he had work to do. He offered the nurse a thin smile as he left, trying to push it all to the back of his mind. Unfortunately, as soon as he left the bathroom he immediately caught Trinity's eye. The shit-eating grin she shot him hung over his head as he bustled away, trying to find something to do.
Throwing himself wholeheartedly into his work thankfully served as enough of a distraction, but it didn't stop him from jumping out of his skin each time Robby popped up around him. It didn't stop his heart beating in his throat every time Robby laid his hands on him, a pat on the back or a clasp on his shoulder making him blush and stammer like an idiot. Trinity saw it all, as she always did, and dread sat heavy in the pit of his stomach as he waited for her to inevitably sidle over. He couldn't find it in himself to be thankful that they were too busy for her to try though. Busy in an ER was never really a good thing.
During a very brief respite she finally found her opportunity, descending on him like a hawk on its prey. Not wanting to hash it out in central, she seized him by the scrubs and dragged him off, out of earshot of some of the chattier nurses.
She bombarded him as soon as they were alone, asking, "Was Robby pissed? Did you get told off like a little schoolboy?"
"Shut up!" Dennis hissed, flapping pathetically at her hand until she released her grip of him. He patted his scrubs down, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in vain. "No, he didn't tell me off."
"Boo," she pouted. "Then what did he want? You were in his office for a suspiciously long time."
"Suspicious? What do you mean, suspicious?!"
"Like, people thought he was tearing you a new one!"
"By people, do you mean you?"
"Maybe."
Dennis rolled his eyes. He looked around surreptitiously and, upon deciding they were still far too out in the open and that they wouldn't be missed if they disappeared for five minutes, he grabbed Trinity's wrist and hauled her off to an oft forgotten stairwell he occasionally hid in to hyperventilate.
"What's going on, why are you freaking out?" Trinity asked. Of course she knew about the stairwell and his usual reason for hiding there.
"Um!" He wrung his hands, Trinity waiting with bated breath for him to spit it out. It was only her expectant stare that forced his words out in a rush. "IthinkRobbyaskedmeout."
Trinity blinked. "Yeah, I did not catch a word of that."
Dennis knew his face was bright red, and he knew she was bullshitting him just because she could, but he took a deep breath and said again, slower this time, "I think Robby asked me out."
Trinity let a beat pass between them. Her mouth twitched up into a smirk she couldn't hold back. "Did you say yes?" she asked, as if she didn't already know.
"Trinity! Thats not helpful!"
"What, you don't want to go?"
"I can't go on a date with my fucking boss," he whisper-yelled. His eyes darted around, panicked as if they were going to be walked in on at any moment.
"Why not?" Trinity asked casually. She inspected her nails as she went on. "You're both adults and you clearly want to. What's the problem?"
"What's the problem?!" He couldn't keep the shrill edge out of his voice. "He's my fucking boss! I'm a med student!"
"So don't tell your college. Or Gloria. Though I don't know why the fuck you'd be talking to her."
"Oh my God, you're the absolute worst at this," Dennis groaned, burying his face in his hands.
Trinity took pity on him, awkwardly patting his arm in an effort to be comforting. "Look, Huckleberry, if you really don't want to go then you don't have to. I just don't think you should let your natural neuroses hold you back."
Dennis was silent, brow furrowed as he tried to think. Trinity nudged him, dropping her tone into something that more resembled sympathy.
"Do you think you might be struggling so much because you want to go?
Miserably, Dennis nodded.
"I think you should let yourself have this," she said. "Hell, it might not even be a date for all you know. But if you don't go, you'll never find out."
"Okay. Yeah." Dennis finally nodded. He still looked unhappy, but there was a more secure set to his shoulders. "You're right, it might not even be a date."
"You don't have to sound so disappointed."
Dennis scowled at her and she put both hands on his shoulders.
"Don't overthink it, dummy."
With that sage advice, she left. Anxiety still roiled in his guts, but the nausea had at least somewhat faded. With a determined little hmph! Dennis followed her back into the Pitt.
He'd like to say that work took his mind off it, but it sat there in the back of his brain, eating away at him until he was a sweaty, nervous wreck. He was trembling like a traumatized chihuahua by the time seven rolled around, and he was stood fiddling with the stuff in his locker when Robby's hand fell heavy on his back, making him jump.
"Everything alright?" he asked, amused at the state of him.
"Uh—yep!" Dennis replied, unconvincingly. He could tell from the twitch of Robby's lips that he was struggling to hold back a laugh and it made his ears burn.
While steering them towards the door, he bent to murmur in Dennis' ear, "Last chance to back out."
Trying to project a calm he did not feel, especially not with Robby's breath sending a shiver down his spine, Dennis shook his head. "I'm good."
"Then lets go." Robby's hand fell from between his shoulder-blades to the small of his back as soon as they were clear of the hospital, propelling him onwards through the streets of Pittsburgh.
"Where are we going?" Dennis asked.
"A little spot I know nearby," was all Robby said, keeping an air of mystery as they navigated smaller and more out of the way streets. Robby filled the silence with meaningless chatter, asking about his hometown, how he liked the city, whether he'd been to this shop or that deli. Dennis dutifully answered each question, finding it surprisingly easy to relax into the casual familiarity Robby naturally exuded. When Robby stopped them, the knot of tension in his stomach had even begun to somewhat loosen. Maybe this would turn out to be a normal night after all!
Or perhaps not. Robby stopped them at a set of steps leading down into a basement bar, a neon OPEN sign with an arrow pointing at the door the only indication of an active establishment. Robby's hand on his back was a hot reminder of the want simmering inside of him. Dennis forced himself to step forward, then down, descending the stairs with Robby hot on his heels. He needn't look back, he could feel Robby's presence looming over him. When he stopped short at the door, Robby leaned in close behind him, an arm over his shoulder to push open the door and usher him inside.
It was immediately obvious that Robby was a frequent patron. The bartender nodded at his entrance, reaching for a bottle of whiskey—top shelf?!—when Robby held up two fingers. He directed Dennis deeper inside the bar, towards a secluded corner booth lit by a small table lamp, its red shade providing an intimate glow. It, alongside the rest of the tables in the joint, were pointed vaguely in the direction of a small stage, and Dennis could perfectly picture Robby sitting here on a night off, tapping along to some jazz or blues band with a snifter of whiskey in hand. As they slid into the booth, a waiter swung by and deposited two glasses on their table, Robby thanking him as they were left to it.
"You much of a whiskey drinker, Dennis?"
The casual use of his first name threw him for a loop, so used to having Whitaker! barked at him when he was idle for even a second in the ER. He tried to recover, but he knew his grasp on the situation was tenuous at best. "Not—not really. Between school and my placements I haven't really had the time to learn. Or the money."
"I hope you're still finding time to relax," Robby said, pausing to take a sip, nudging Dennis' drink towards him in obvious hint. "Can't work all the time."
Dennis wrapped his fingers around the cool glass to try and ground himself. "Trinity takes me out often enough, but she usually drags me to lesbian bars..."
Robby laughed.
Emboldened and wanting to make him laugh more, Dennis went on. "Trinity never has a problem getting with someone, but usually I'm the only guy there, so its not like I have options!"
He stopped and took a sip, unable to hide his wince when he realized what he'd just said, but Robby breezed past the accidentally casual coming-out. He gestured instead at Dennis' glass. "Too strong?"
"No," Dennis rasped, drinking some more and powering through the taste. He was acutely aware of the weight of Robby's gaze, his warm smile shining down on him like a ray of sunlight, and he was overcome with the urge to impress him, to earn his approval. Any words died on his tongue when their eyes met though, shy in the face of Robby's undivided attention.
Robby slid closer, stopping just short of pressing their bodies together, and Dennis jumped at the warm weight of Robby's hand suddenly placed upon his knee.
"Don't think it escaped my notice that you avoided my question earlier," he said, his voice low and teasing.
"I don't—what question?" Dennis felt out of his depth, hands clammy and still hungover, the whiskey sitting heavily in his stomach.
"Do you see me as a father figure, Dennis?"
Dennis turned bright red, stuttering and stammering and unable to say anything at all.
"I don't mind, you know," he went on. "You can call me 'dad' if you want to."
All Dennis could do was stare. His brain had short-circuited, all he could feel was Robby's hand on his leg, starting to slowly inch up to his thigh.
"Would you like it if I took care of you?" Robby asked. Dennis knew that he was being offered an out, that he could say No thanks, and that would be the end of it.
It would be so easy to say Yes though. Robby was so close, all he had to do was just lean in and—
"Maybe we shouldn't," Dennis found himself saying. The Something in the back of his head retreated, sulking as his rational brain took over.
It was like a bucket of cold water dumped unceremoniously over the both of them.
"Oh." Robby swallowed thickly, leaning back, out of Dennis' space. The hand on his knee fell away. "Right. That might be... for the best."
Dennis winced. He picked up his glass and swirled the amber whiskey into a whirlpool. "Its not worth it, fucking up your whole career over me."
"You're right. I'm sorry, kid," Robby said. A solid rock of shame simmered in Dennis' gut at the guilt on his face, but he couldn't think of anything to say, anything that would ease Robby's mind.
Whatever atmosphere there had been between them had fizzled away, simple as that, but Dennis felt it would be a little easier to bear if Robby would stop gazing at him like he was yearning for something different. He had to get out of there before he said something he knew he'd regret.
He knocked back his drink in one shuddering swallow. "I should probably get home," he said, not brave enough to meet the other man's eyes. "Thanks for the drink, Doctor Robby."
He shuffled awkwardly out of the booth, daring to look back only once he'd extracted himself from Robby's magnetic orbit. He didn't have the guts to tell him what he really thought, that walking away would be a bigger mistake than anything else.
"I'll see you at work."
Robby didn't say anything, his lips pressed firmly together like it was the only thing stopping him from begging Dennis to stay. And so Dennis turned on his heel and left.
Pushing open the bar door, Dennis was further dismayed to find that it had started raining while they were in the bar. He also had no idea where he was, still unused to the city without Trinity leading the way. He fumbled for his phone, ignored Trinity's text messages, and booked himself an uber back to the hospital. It would be cheaper than getting one all the way home, and once he was back on familiar territory it'd be easy to catch a bus the rest of the way. Unwilling to wait inside and risk facing the man he desperately wanted to throw himself at, Dennis trudged up the stairs and let the rain soak him through as he waited for his uber to arrive.
He wistfully hoped that Robby would open the door, call him back inside, let them pick up where they left off, but the call never came. The uber pulled up, he climbed inside, and it drove him away.
Dennis' next shift set the uncomfortable tone for the following weeks. Robby could barely even look at him, and the physicality that Dennis had gotten used to was practically non-existent. He felt the absence a great deal more than he thought he would.
After arriving home that night Trinity had bombarded him with the third degree, needing to know absolutely everything about the almost-date, but her questioning stopped short as soon as she got a good look at him. She'd bundled him into the bathroom so he could take a hot shower, made him a cup of hot chocolate, and he resoundingly Didn't Talk About It. She'd tried to ask since, but all he could do was shake his head, unwilling to give voice to his own pathetic pining.
At work though, he could feel the weight of her worried stare. She, too, noticed how standoffish Robby had become with him, and she also saw the pitifully longing looks Dennis couldn't help. There wasn't much she could do, not without him actually opening up to her, but still, she kept her eyes peeled and started to carefully search for a blind date prospect with the help of her friends outside of work, anything that might make him less woeful.
Keeping a close eye on her friend came with the side-effect of also keeping a close eye on her boss, given that he was who Dennis was usually looking at, and that meant she noticed what Dennis never saw. Whenever Dennis' wistful gaze fell from Robby, she saw Robby glance at him with such intense yearning Trinity was shocked that no one else had seemed to notice it. The stolen glances were always brief, so she guessed that was how they'd flown under the radar, but they were powerful enough to make her chest ache. She let the casual enquiries for blind date candidates fizzle out into nothing, opting to wait and see what these two idiots would do next.
Dennis, meanwhile, felt like the worlds biggest loser. He'd hoped that his rejection would've pushed his idle crush under the rug, swept away and out of sight so that he could start the arduous process of actually getting over his boss, but seeing him every day at work put a real spanner in the works. Instead, he privately longed for and lamented over what could've been, if only his big mouth hadn't gotten in the way. It was never a good idea to get involved with ones boss, especially as he is still a medical student, but that didn't stop him from wondering. From hoping Robby would chase after him. From watching him walk away like a lovesick tween. Even just that one drink, that one moment of shared closeness, it was enough to get him hooked. It was enough to make him miss Robby. Which was ridiculous, given he'd never even had Robby. He had even less now, as the man avoided touching him, barely even looking at him most days. He sometimes thought, for just a moment, that Robby missed him too, and that the prickle he sometimes felt on the back of his neck was his gaze, but every time he looked up Robby was a thousand miles away. Trinity did her best to comfort him, but it just felt useless. Every day he was confronted with the reality of his own hopelessness. If Dennis had more confidence, he'd at least try to flirt, either with Robby or with someone else in front of him. But even he could tell what a bad idea that would be, despite Trinity's not-so-subtle encouragement towards it.
It all came to a head one morning after they were assigned their first patients. Dennis had been conveniently left off the list, and after the crowd of doctors and nurses dispersed Robby pointed one foreboding finger in his direction and gestured towards his office. There was no dragging him bodily towards the door this time, and Dennis trudged over like he was about to be sentenced to death. Robby held open the door for him, careful to not even brush against him, and followed him into the tiny room, closing the door behind him and muffling the hectic clamor of the ER. It was just as much of a bomb site as it had been last time Dennis was in here, and he waited silently as Robby cleared off the two chairs for them to sit. When Robby waved, Dennis obediently sat. And waited.
Robby sighed, scrubbing a hand over his beard. "This has got to stop, kid."
A pang of anxiety shot through Dennis. His survival instinct kicked in, about two months too late. Deny deny deny. "I don't know what you mean."
"Look at me and try again," Robby ordered. "If you're going to lie, at least look me in the eyes."
Dennis blinked, surprised to find his eyes burning already and praying that he wouldn't actually cry in front of his boss. He met Robby's gaze defiantly, trying not to look as sullen as he felt. "You'll have to be more specific."
Robby glared at him. "People have started to notice. You can't keep staring at me like a—a fucking... lost puppy!"
"You can barely stand to be in the same room as me!" Dennis hissed, the rational part of his brain screaming at him to Shut up! "You don't get to tell me how I should feel."
Robby blinked, startled by Dennis' outburst. Quietly, he said, "I'm just trying to give you space, I thought this is what you wanted."
"You didn't ask me what I want," Dennis replied, trying not to sound petulant. He folded his arms and sulked. "Did you not mean it, at the bar?"
"Dennis..."
"You asked if I see you as a father figure," Dennis ignored Robby's flinch, "Was that just a line?"
Robby leant forward, resting what he hoped was a comforting hand upon Dennis' knee. "It wasn't a line. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but you were right. You know how this looks."
"What if I've changed my mind?"
The older man swallowed. Their conversation had long past spiraled out of his control. "Kid..."
Dennis was going out of his mind, Robby couldn't stop treating him like... like he was too stupid and smitten to make a choice for himself. He dropped a hand to rest over Robby's, holding him in place. "You need to take responsibility, dad."
Before Robby could say anything else, Dennis, with a confidence he in no way felt, leant into Robby's space and kissed him. It was clumsy and off-center, but that didn't matter, not when, after a single moment's hesitation, Robby's free hand went to his chin, not to push him away but to adjust him slightly, slotting their lips together for a proper kiss. Dennis whimpered helplessly, his free hand fell to Robby's chest, grasping at the fabric of his shirt as he fell into his lips, again and again.
The dam was broken and they didn't know how to stop. Robby snaked his hands around Dennis' waist and lifted him into his lap, his hands cradling his ass. Dennis' arms went around Robby's neck, running his fingers through surprisingly soft hair as the wet smack of their lips filled the tiny room. Robby pulled their hips into a slow, sensual grind, hands flexing and grabbing over Dennis' clothes, dipping his tongue into his mouth, overwhelming him easily with skill and care threaded through every little motion.
When they finally pulled apart they were both panting, lips swollen and faces flushed. The hard line of Robby's cock pressed flush against Dennis through their trousers.
"Tell me what you want," Robby growled against his mouth, unable to resist stealing kisses.
"I want you," Dennis whimpered. He tried to sink back into Robby's mouth but he playfully pulled back, teasing him.
"You need to ask politely."
"Please, daddy?" He tried again, but Robby remained out of reach.
"Not quite. Try again, Dennis."
He felt shy all of a sudden, like if he said the wrong thing he'd ruin it. Even with Robby's big hands rubbing small circles over his ass, their saliva drying on his lips. Robby saw his hesitation and flexed his hips just ever so slightly, his hard dick a reminder of how much he wanted him.
"Go on," he encouraged softly. "Use your words."
"P-please fuck me, dad..."
Robby surged upwards and captured his lips in an open mouthed kiss, crushing their bodies together. His tongue delved deep, drawing desperate little moans out of Dennis as their hips rutted together. He was thoroughly dazed by the time Robby released him.
"Stand up, pants off," Robby ordered, and he scrambled up to obey and kick them off. Robby lifted his hips just enough to push his own pants down to his knees, and Dennis' pants were still hooked around one ankle when Robby pulled him back down. With a hard grip on his hips Robby pulled Dennis tight against him to slide his dick through the lips of Dennis' cunt, cursing under his breath at the wetness he found there. "I need you to be a good boy and keep quiet for me, can you do that?"
"Uh huh, I'll be good," Dennis promised. He knew he would've agreed to anything at that point, as long as it got Robby inside him. He felt almost feverish, hips twitching involuntarily to get any kind of friction against his clit. Robby wormed one hand between them, the other curling around the back of Dennis' neck, drawing him close and pressing their foreheads together.
He pressed the fat head of his dick insistently against Dennis' hole, slowly bullying his way inside. Dennis felt he was being split open, his eyes captured by Robby's intense gaze and choking on gasps as he strained not to cry out. When he was seated fully on Robby's lap, cock buried entirely within his cunt, all he could do was whimper and tremble, overwhelmed and oversensitive. The hand not holding his head in place went back to his waist, barely needing to guide him into a needy, desperate grind, both of them already hurtling towards the edge.
It was too much, Dennis felt he was about the shake apart in Robby's hands. It was getting harder and harder to muffle his moans, and they both knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back when he came. Every stroke dragged his clit against Robby's body, his slick saturating the coarse hair there. His hands clenched in Robby's hair, his shirt, spasming as the pleasure shocked his system.
"I—ah—I'm gonna c-cum, Robby, dad, p-please!"
Thankfully, Robby knew exactly what he was asking for. He took the hand from the back of Dennis' neck and covered his mouth to keep him quiet. He couldn't stop his own praise from rumbling softly out of him though, egging Dennis on. "You've been so good for me, baby, you can let go, I want you to let go."
Dennis blinked away tears, frantically fucking his hips forward again and again and again. He teetered on the edge of the cliff, needing one, final push before he could fall, and Robby leant up to whisper in his ear:
"Cum for me, cum for your dad."
With deep, shuddering breaths Dennis shook apart in Robby's arms. He could barely even squeak between Robby's hand over his mouth and his own sense of self-preservation keeping quiet. The walls of his cunt clenched and fluttered around Robby's cock, milking his orgasm out of him with a bitten-off curse, still buried to the hilt inside.
Robby drew him back into a kiss, slower this time, just the two of them languidly exploring each other's mouths as the aftershocks of their orgasms ran their course. Dennis had to pull away, resting his forehead on Robby's shoulder so he could catch his breath. Robby's cock was softening inside him, and he started giggling into his shirt as the absurdity of the situation washed over him. Robby's hands ran warmly over his back, holding him close in his embrace, but Dennis' laughter was infectious and it didn't take long for Robby to chuckle along with him.
When they finally cooled off, Dennis awkwardly lifted himself off of Robby's dick, but he couldn't go far, Robby's arms keeping him trapped.
"So much for keeping you at an arms length," Robby said. He didn't sound particularly unhappy about that, but Dennis' ears heated up as he remembered how forward he'd been.
"God, I'm sorry for—"
"No," Robby interrupted. "Don't apologize."
He drew back so he could look Dennis in the eyes.
"I'm sorry for what happened, back in the bar."
His soft, brown eyes with their deep wrinkles, proof of his age and experience, bored into Dennis' and made him melt.
"Do you think we can... start again?"
Dennis huffed a laugh. "You don't think we're a little beyond that now?"
Robby's smile was gentle enough to make Dennis avert his eyes, unused to being looked at with such care.
"I would—I'd like that."
Robby took his chin between two fingers, drawing Dennis' gaze back to him. "Good." He sealed the deal with a short kiss. "Now up you get, we're almost definitely missed and we've wasted enough time already."
Dennis' stomach dropped. He'd been laughing earlier, but the reality of his situation finally sunk in. He'd just fucked his boss. At work. In the middle of their shift. "Oh, shit."
Robby laughed at him though. "What was it you said earlier about taking responsibility?" He patted Dennis' ass until he was standing and helped him step back into his underwear and pants. "You skedaddle to the bathroom and get cleaned up while I distract anyone who might've noticed, okay?"
Dennis breathed a sigh of relief. As much as he wanted to savor the feeling of Robby's cum slowly dripping out of him, he didn't want to end up with an awkward wet patch. That would be far too embarrassing a visit to the scrubs exchange. Before he left to sneak off to the bathroom though, he grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen from the desk. Robby watched curiously as he scribbled, pulling up his own pants and making sure he was at least somewhat presentable. Dennis folded the slip of paper and tucked it into Robby's pocket with a shy smile.
"My number. Text me after work."
"I will," Robby promised.
Dennis slipped out of the room, keeping his head down and bee-lining towards the bathroom. Behind him, he heard Robby exit the office with an exaggerated clatter, and he smiled a small, private smile to himself as the commotion let him fly under the radar. Take responsibility indeed.